


To Have A Home

by Inkblot



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidfic, Time Travel, childfic, mentions of child abuse, timetravel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkblot/pseuds/Inkblot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has always wondered why Remus was so understanding about his life with the Dursleys. After finding out, he is determined to go back in time and help a little boy regain his childhood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Have A Home

**Author's Note:**

> Standard disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Harry James Potter of Number 12, Grimmauld Place ran through the halls, calling for his surrogate father, panic quickly filling him as he opened and closed doors and looked threw closets with no result.

"Moony? Remus-where are you?” Harry grew more frantic-he rarely called Remus Lupin by his given name; often calling him ‘Moony’ or, teasingly once or twice ‘Mr. Bookworm’. If said man hadn’t come out by now…where was he?

Harry had lived with Remus for about thirteen years now. The man had taken the six-almost seven-year old boy away when he had heard of the neglect and abuse the Dursleys had been inflicting on his best friend’s son. Harry had always wondered why Remus had been so understanding, knowing almost as if he could read minds why Harry had been so scared of breaking things, always flinching when someone touched him those first couple of months.

Harry opened the last door-the last place he could think of-and froze.

Blood. Blood, everywhere, covering the walls, the floor…A scream caught in Harry's throat, and his breath froze in his lungs. A man stood over Remus-his beloved Moony-his father in all senses of the word-with a knife, covered in the red fluid…

“Hello, boy.” The man rasped. It sounded as if he hadn’t spoken in years…

“Who are you?” Harry asked, fury showing in his voice. His Gryffindor side was definitely showing now… Whoever this man was, no matter the reason he was here, he would pay-pay for hurting Remus John Lupin.

The man laughed. It sounded…wrong, somehow. Like he was insane. He probably is, Harry thought sourly.

“I? I am Patric Lupin, this animal's father.”

Harry gasped.

“But why…you…Your own son?”

The man laughed maniacally.

“He is no son of mine.” He kicked Remus’ body. “Stinking werewolf…” He spat. Harry saw red. He lunged for the man, all rational thought gone. The man-Patrick, was it?-Laughed and thrust the knife towards Harry’s chest. He dodged, eyes blazing. Mentally hitting himself on the head, he drew his wand, a move he should've made 5 minutes ago. The man was no match with Harry armed-he didn't have a wand, probably because he had been imprisoned in France for the past 30 years for rape, murder, and, unbeknownst to Harry, child abuse.

"Patrificus Totalus!" Harry yelled. The man tried to dodge, but years in prison had shrunken his muscles to useless lumps. The spell struck dead on, and he crumpled to the ground. Harry walked over him and went to check on Remus. Still breathing-but barely. Harry applied the very few healing spells he knew to help restore his guardian and went to call...call who? Oh. Right. Madam Pomfrey and Kingsley Shacklebult. Kingsley was an auror; he could do something with the piece of filth lying on the floor.

After contacting the needed people, Harry went back to Remus' side. Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey came bustling through the house after a couple of minutes. Remus had multiple slashes and gashes that, thanks to Harry's spell work had begun to clot, but the life fluid was still being lost at an alarming rate.

“Oh Merlin, what happened here?” Madam Pomfrey asked concernedly, kneeling by Remus' head.

“His father is what happened,” Harry growled, pointing to the man that he had levitated into the corner of the room.

The matron glared. She had become close to the young werewolf after his years in Hogwarts. As she began to cast spells over him, looking increasingly more alarmed, Kingsley Shacklebult, a tall balding dark-colored man came rushing up the stairs.

“Harry? What’s going on?” He stopped at the doorway of Sirius Black’s room, where Harry had found Remus. “Is that the man who-?”

Harry cut him off with a slightly hysterical nod of his head.

"Okay, I'm going to need to take you in for questioning."

Harry nodded. He looked worriedly at Remus, but Madam Pomfrey waved him off.

"Don't worry, he'll be alright by the time you get back. I'll stay with him." 

With a flick of his wand, ropes sprung into existence around Patric Lupin and he was levitated along behind the two men as they moved toward the fireplace.

**…*..**…*..**…*..**…*..**…*..**…*..

Harry stepped out of the floo, brushing the soot from his clothes absent-mindedly. He followed Kingsley to a small office that had a sign on the door that proclaimed Kingsley Head auror.

The office was cluttered, but spacious enough. Papers were strewn over Kingsley's desk and thick folders covered bulging file cabinets. A framed photograph of a smiling young girl and an older woman hung proudly behind the desk.

"Have a seat, Mr. Potter." Kingsley pointed to a slightly warn out armchair.

Harry sank shakily into the indicated chair.

"Ok," Kingsley began, pulling out a self-inking quill and some parchment. "Tell me exactly what happened."

“I was looking for Remus because he didn’t come to breakfast and I was worried about him since it was the full moon yesterday. I hadn't seen him all day, and I just wanted to check his wounds and such. I looked all through the house and I went into Sirius’s room-No one uses that room, we just go in there to think sometimes…I'm so stupid, I should've looked in there sooner. When I got there, I saw that man standing over Remus with a knife and there was blood all over the walls and floor."

As he spoke, the quill moved rapidly across the parchment-Kingsley was copying everything almost word for word. When he had finished, Kingsley shook his head disbelievingly.

"His own sun…" 

Harry nodded. "What's going to happen to him-Remus' so called father?" he asked.

"He'll have to go into questioning, and if what you told me is true he'll be put into Azkaban." Kingsley replied.

"For how long?" Harry asked.

"Probably for about 15 years or so."

Harry grimaced. In his opinion, 15 years was too short-that man had hurt Moony after all-but it was better than nothing. He stood.

"Am I free to go? I want to get back to Remus." He asked Kingsley who was writing on another scrap of parchment.

"Go on," He replied. He looked up. "Tell me how he is later on, if you can."

"Yeah-sure. I will. Thanks for coming when you did-I probably would've killed that…thing."

Kingsley chuckled darkly.

"Yeah well...I would've helped you if I wasn't an auror. I reckon I would've gotten away with it if I said it was in self defense."

Harry cracked a smile. Shaking the older man's hand, he walked out and back toward the bank of fireplaces, absentmindedly greeting several people as he went.

After Voldemort's defeat, many of his followers had tried to hurt-or in some cases kill-Harry to avenge their master's death. This resulted in many trips to the Ministry. The death eaters rarely succeeded-and if they did Harry had only come out of the fight with several cuts and scrapes. He'd dragged every single one of them to Kingsley's office, quickly becoming close with the auror during all the questionings.

Thankfully, none of Harry's close friends were killed or permanently injured during the war. Ron had to use a wheelchair for about a year; he was in Gryffindor tower helping a stray second year escape when the roof had collapsed, and Ron's legs were trapped under the weight of all the stone. Hermione had been temporarily blinded while dueling Bellatrix Lestrange. Bellatrix had sent the levitation charm at the broken fragments of glass on the floor from the broken windows and directed them straight into Hermione's eyes. Luckily for Bellatrix, she was killed when she had sent a green jet of light at Ginny Weasley, in the presents of Harry and Molly. If she was still alive, Harry mused, she would've died a much, much more painful death when Hermione woke from the coma she was in after the battle. 

Thankfully, she had only been out for about two weeks. Madam Pomfrey had predicted a month.

Harry came out of his musings when he reached the fireplace. He took a pinch of floo powder, threw it into the fire, and called "Number 12, Grimmauld Place!" He disappeared in a rush of flames.

**…*..**…*..**…*..**…*..**…*..**…*..

Harry stumbled out of the floo and ran straight up to Sirius’s old room.

“Is he ok?” He panted when he spotted the matron. Madam Pomfrey straightened up from leaning over Remus and replied,

“He’s in a coma. No, don’t worry,“ she said hurriedly, seeing Harry’s horrified face. “It's a healing coma. That knife had some silver on the blade. I managed to pull it out of his bloodstream, but there are still side effects. He’ll probably be out for at least two weeks.”

Harry sighed, relieved. “Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. I don’t know what I would’ve done if…” 

The nurse cut him off with a pat on the shoulder as she packed her potions away.

“It’s alright, Harry. You know I wouldn't have let that happen.”

Harry smiled.

“I've given him a nutrient potion so that his body doesn't waste away while he's in the coma. When he wakes up, contact me as soon as you can.” She told him sternly as she began to walk out of the door.

“I will. Thanks again!” Harry called after her.

He perched himself on the edge of Remus' bed, affectionately gazing at the scarred face. It was then that he began to contemplate the reason that Remus was so very understanding of his behavior when he'd first collected Harry from the Dursleys. Moony had held him when he had nightmares about the cruel treatment, and reassured him that he wasn't in trouble that time when he hadn't gotten up to make breakfast like he was accustomed to doing. He knew when to stay away when Harry was too distraught to be comforted, and he had known exactly what to say to soothe the child. Harry had seen the knowing yet sad looks that had crossed Remus' face when he looked at him. He didn't understand it when he was little, but now he was starting to get suspicious. Why had Moony known so much? Maybe he'd known about the abuse Padfoot went through when he was a teen. Harry had seen the faint scars on his godfather's back one night when Sirius had gone down to the kitchen for a glass of water and Harry was sitting at the table with a cup of tea. He thought it had been a trick of the light but now...now he wasn't so sure. Then he remembered the events of that day and how Remus' father had been so adamant that he wasn't related to his son at all...And Harry remembered the knife. And the blood. Was it possible that...

No. No, it isn't. He stopped his thoughts before they could become coherent. 

Well, whatever it is I'm knackered, Harry thought to himself. He stood and went to his room to get ready for bed, still contemplating this new mystery.

*..**...*.**...*.**...

Harry awoke to the sun shining into his eyes. He got up and performed his morning ablutions, Then went into the kitchen and made himself a quick breakfast of toast and cereal. After he had cleaned and put the dishes away, he quickly walked into Remus' room. Remus was still in the coma-Harry had expected that. What he didn't expect was to catch the slightest glint of a glowing gray light on the floor under the bed. He knelt down to peer closer, lighting his wand. He saw a small corner of the wooden floorboard, which was slightly uneven with the rest of the planks.

That was normal for the old house that they inhabited. What was unusual was the light of his wand catching the source of the gleam. The small hint of the object that he could see drew him to the conclusion that it was a pensieve. Harry cautiously lifted the floorboard and looked down into the space under it. Yes, it was a pensieve...full to the brim with memories. Whose was it? he wondered. It wouldn't hurt to take a small peak... he looked around the stone basin for a name, a sign, even scratch marks; anything to show who it belonged to. Nothing. So feeling guilty, Harry plunged his face into the mass of swirling memories.

*.**...*.**...*.**...

The room he landed in was almost the size of his cupboard. A familiar looking, emaciated, brown-haired, brown-eyed boy was rocking back and forth on a thread-bare mattress that was under the only window in the room. He looked no older than five years old. Harry stepped closer, and could finally hear what he was murmuring as tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Why? Daddy and Mummy are mad at me again. I always try to be good but I just keep hurting...I don't understand what they want..." Harry gasped disbelievingly. This boy looked almost exactly like Remus Lupin with the exception that this little boy was definitely younger than the one that Harry was used to seeing. Harry was aghast to see all the welts and bruises that littered the sickly pale skin of this little boy. Rage blossomed in his chest; it was obvious that Remus Lupin was being abused. And by his parents, no less. In Harry's opinion, being hit and thrown around by your aunt and uncle was different than being hurt by your own parents; weren't they there to love and take care of their children? Apparently not in Remus' case.

Just then, the door of the small room burst open and a very large woman squeezed into the room. Remus immediately wiped the tears from his face and sat up straight.

"What are you doing just sitting there doing nothing you useless werewolf?" she screamed at the small child. "Get up and go clean the kitchen! It's a mess!"

"Yes, Ma'am." Remus replied shakily. He stood up and nearly fell back onto the bed; Harry saw that he looked very pale and feverish, trembling with cold-or was it fear?

"Go!" The woman screeched, striding over and kicking the poor child in the stomach. Harry could have pulverized her for hurting one of the only adults that had ever cared for him. Even if this was the child version of Remus, he knew that no one deserved to be treated like that. It was then and there that he decided to do something about Remus' childhood. The man had helped Harry after all, and Harry thought he had to repay him for that somehow.

**Author's Note:**

> Repost, edited version from my original over at FF.net I hope you like it! Leave thoughts, suggestions, questions and criticism. X


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